Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"I just think it's wrong to marry for anything other than love," Charlotte said, as they crossed the little bridge over the stream on their way back to the house.

The day was getting warmer, and Charlotte was looking forward to sitting in her favourite part of the garden and writing the next chapter of her novel. She was trying not to think about the encounter she had just had with the earl and Lord Baxter, even as she knew she would have to think about it again soon enough.

"A lot of people do, though, Miss Davidson. Arranged marriages happen all the time. But I suppose some couples learn to love one another," Sara said.

"But I don't want to learn to love someone after I've married them. I want to fall in love with them beforehand. Is that terribly na?ve? Perhaps I've read too many of those romantic novels," Charlotte said.

She wondered if she was being terribly na?ve. What would Isabella have done?

"Don't worry, Miss Davidson. Everyone's different, aren't they? Just because you feel one way doesn't make it wrong," Sara replied.

Charlotte nodded. She could always rely on Sara to say something helpful, and yet still she felt a sense of guilt for the way she had just behaved towards the earl, whose faults were perhaps not entirely of his own doing.

"I know, and I know my mother and I don't always see eye to eye. It's not that I don't want to get married; I do. But I want to marry for love. Perhaps that makes me terribly na?ve," Charlotte replied.

They had crossed the bridge and were making their way along a rough and uneven path by the stream. Charlotte was wearing her flat, outdoor shoes, but as she stepped forward, she caught her foot on a gap in the stones and tripped and fell. Her ankle twisted painfully, and she let out a cry as Sara rushed to help her.

"Oh, Miss Davidson, I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where we were going," Sara exclaimed, as Charlotte clutched her ankle, groaning with the pain.

"I don't think it's broken… oh, but I don't think I can walk," Charlotte said.

She was sitting on the path, her dress torn and muddied from the fall. She would be bruised all over, but it was her ankle that had suffered the worst. It was twisted nastily, though Charlotte felt certain it was not broken, only bruised. Sara was looking down at her with a concerned look on her face.

"I'll run to the house, Miss Davidson. The footmen can fashion a stretcher, or there's still your grandmother's sedan chair in the storeroom," Sara said.

But before she could leave to run to the house, a figure appeared on the bridge behind them. It was the earl, and it seemed he had been following them. He hurried forward.

"Goodness me, Miss Davidson. What ever happened to you?" he asked, coming to kneel at her side.

"I just fell, that's all. I'll be all right. Sara's going up to the house to bring the footmen to help," Charlotte replied.

She did not want to appear helpless in front of him, even as he now insisted on examining her injury.

"I know a little about sprains from training horses. I don't mean it's the same, but I don't think it's broken," he said, having gingerly moved Charlotte's leg into a more comfortable position.

"Are you saying I'm akin to a horse?" Charlotte asked, raising her eyebrows, and the earl smiled.

"Not at all, no. But sprains are common across the animal kingdom. It's no different treating a horse than it is treating a young lady. We'll need to bandage it for support, and you'll need to keep the weight off it for a few days. A week, at least," he said.

Charlotte nodded. He seemed to know what he was talking about, even as the comparison with a horse was hardly flattering. Sara now hurried off to the house to fetch help, and Charlotte found herself alone with the earl, who promised to see her safely home.

"Why were you following me?" Charlotte asked, for she did not know what the earl's motivation had been.

An embarrassed look came over his face and he sighed.

"Well… I rather thought we ought to clear the air a little. We left things rather… strained," he said, and Charlotte smiled.

She did not like conflict, and she had not wanted to be angry with him in the way she had been angry with Lord Baxter. It was one thing to seek financial security through marriage, and quite another to seek financial dominance. Lord Baxter sought the latter. Charlotte did not trust him. But as for the earl, his motives were clear. He needed rescuing, and marriage was his solution.

"I only asked you a question. I wanted to know why you wanted to marry me. But I think I know the answer now. You're in trouble, aren't you? Your debts have mounted, and you've got no choice but to seek a solution. I'm the solution, or rather, my father is," Charlotte said.

The earl nodded, and it seemed Charlotte had read the situation perfectly.

"I'm not proud of the fact, but you're right. The money's gone. That's the problem with the aristocracy. We assume we have the right to go on as we always have. But the money won't last. I made some poor investments. I wasn't reckless. Well, the details don't matter. Your father was kind enough to offer a solution, as were you," he said, looking at her with a nervous expression on his face.

Charlotte now realized the power she had over him, and had she been a woman like Olivia, perhaps she would have exercised that power. But Charlotte was nothing like Olivia. She hoped. She was glad he had finally been honest with her, even as it remained to be seen what the outcome would be.

"And that's why you've pursued me, despite your obvious affections for Olivia," Charlotte replied.

"Oh, but that's… I'm being foolish. I'm sorry if I come across as ridiculous with regards to Olivia. My feelings for her are… well, I've clung to them for so long. But it's nonsense. She doesn't feel the same way about me. If anything, she can be quite cruel at times," the earl said.

There was a tone of resigned sadness in his voice, and Charlotte wondered why it had taken him so long to realize this obvious truth. She had only spent the briefest amount of time observing the earl and Olivia together, and it was blatantly obvious to her as to where the power lay.

"I won't refute it. I don't really know you yet, and I know Olivia even less so. But I'm fairly certain there's no chance of her ever-reciprocating whatever feelings you might have for her. Feelings I think you'd be wise to let go of. And not because of me, but for yourself and your own well-being," Charlotte said.

It was the sort of thing she might have written in her novel. Isabella giving advice to one of her sisters. But to her surprise, the earl nodded.

"Yes, you're right. I've been rather foolish, haven't I? I know she doesn't feel anything for me. And if anything, my feelings for her aren't what they used to be. I'm not saying that because… well, I'm not sure why I'm saying it. But if you and I are to be married, we need to understand what we're getting ourselves into, and what it's going to be like to be a married couple," the earl said.

Charlotte had not yet thought that far. She had tried not to think that far, remembering her mother's words about being forbidden from the pleasures of her books and writing desk.

"But I think you know, don't you? You're marrying me because my father's agreed to pay your debts if you do. I understand. I might've considered it myself if the situation was reversed. But as for anything more…" Charlotte replied, her words trailing off as she felt fearful of what he would say next.

But to her surprise, the earl reached out and took her hand in his, smiling at her as he looked up at her, holding her gaze.

"I know it's not ideal. And you probably think I'm an awful, self-centred, obnoxious aristocrat, used to getting my own way. I'm sure I can be that at times. But I don't want this marriage to be an endurance for you. It should benefit you, too. Your mother and father were putting pressure on you to marry, weren't they? Well, here's the solution. We can help one another," he said.

Charlotte had not thought about it like that before. She had assumed her marriage to the earl was entirely for his benefit, and yet his words now presented an alternative possibility. He was right. In marrying the earl, Charlotte would be released from the constant nagging of her mother, and the disapproving looks of her father. She would become respectable. She would outrank her own mother. But most important of all, she would be left alone.

"I… yes, but what do you mean by that?" Charlotte asked, wondering how exactly the earl envisaged their marriage would play out.

He thought for a moment, pondering, it seemed, his own words.

"Well, it seems to me we need to come to a compromise. We can be happy in one another's company. We proved that the ball, didn't we? We both know the value of solitude, and I'm sure we'd both respect one another's need for it. As for living as a married couple… well, it need only be in name.

There need be no expectation of anything other than outward appearance. I want you to feel free to pursue your interests, just as I'm sure you'd want the same for me, too," he said.

At these words, Charlotte's ear pricked up. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Charlotte could hear her mother's voice chastising her for what she was about to say. But if she did not ask, she would never know.

"You know I like to write, don't you? I'm working on a novel. I know it sounds frivolous, and my mother's even forbidden me from speaking of it. But it means a great deal to me. I want to publish it, and for others to read it, too. If this is to work, I need your assurance I'd be allowed to pursue it, and that you wouldn't ridicule me for it, either," Charlotte said.

She thought he would laugh at her; a man like him, with title and responsibility, could never take seriously the thought of a woman writing a romance novel. But to her surprise, the earl nodded.

"I know about your writing, yes. And I think it's wonderful. You should be encouraged to pursue it, Miss Davidson. It clearly means a great deal to you. I'd be a cruel man if I stood in your way. Actually, I have one or two friends involved in publishing. They publish dull academic titles. But I'm sure they'd know where to look if one was in the market to publish a novel," the earl replied.

Charlotte was astonished, and had it not been for the continuing pain in her ankle, she might well have flung her arms around him in an embrace. Not only had he agreed to allow her to continue writing, he had positively encouraged it. Charlotte had had no idea how to go about publishing her novel, and to hear he could help her brought such joy to her as to be quite overwhelming.

"Do you really mean it? I can continue writing and… perhaps even see my work in print?" Charlotte exclaimed, and the earl nodded.

"As I said, I see no reason to stand in your way. I don't understand why your parents disapprove of your endeavours. If it's what you enjoy, why shouldn't you continue with it?" he said.

Charlotte felt as though a burden had been lifted from her–the earl was right. Marriage would put an end to her mother's constant nagging, and her father's disapproving tone. And if she was allowed to pursue her interests, and to live as she lived now. Well, she would be gaining something, rather than losing it. The thought was liberating, and now Charlotte wondered if perhaps what was to be would not be as bad as she had feared.

"That's what I've tried to tell them. But they won't listen. They think the only way to a man's heart is through obedience and by being just like all those other silly women I have to put up with at those interminable balls and soirees," Charlotte said, shaking her head as the earl laughed.

"You mean women like Olivia, I suppose," he said, and Charlotte blushed.

She had not specifically been referring to Olivia, and yet her behaviour certainly numbered her among those to whom Charlotte was referring. It was sad to think so many women abandoned who they were for the sake of what they thought others wanted them to be.

"Well… not just Olivia, but… yes, I suppose so. I just feel it's such a waste. But if you truly mean what you say, I think the two of us could make this work, don't you?" Charlotte said, and the earl nodded.

"I do, yes," he said, smiling at Charlotte, just as Sara appeared with several of the footmen.

They were carrying a stretcher, and it was not long before Charlotte was being taken back to the house like an invalid from a battlefield. The earl came with her, and they were greeted by Charlotte's mother, who burst into hysterics at the sight of Charlotte lying with an ankle twisted to one side.

"Oh, Charlotte! What were you thinking? How could you be so foolish? You'll not be able to walk down the aisle like this," she exclaimed.

Charlotte and the earl shared a wry smile, and Jacob explained there was really no harm done, and that Charlotte would be walking normally in no time at all.

"It looks worse than it is," he said, and Charlotte's mother thanked him profusely.

"I don't know what we'd have done without you, my Lord. Thank goodness you were there. I can't thank you enough, and I hope Charlotte thinks the same," Charlotte's mother said, fixing Charlotte with a pointed look.

Charlotte did think the same, but not for the same reasons as her mother. She was grateful to the earl for what he had promised her. She would be free to pursue her interests and write her novel. It amused Charlotte to think that the one thing her mother had forbidden her from speaking of for fear of causing Jacob's opinion of her to change was the one thing that had now brought them closer together.

"Charlotte was most grateful. Mrs. Davidson, fear not," the earl said, and Charlotte's mother smiled.

"Well, I'm very pleased to hear it. I do hope you'll be a frequent visitor to Thrushcross Grange, my Lord. We've got a great deal to prepare, haven't we?" she said, and the earl nodded, glancing at Charlotte and smiling.

"I promise I won't be a stranger. But I really must be going now," he said, and after Charlotte had thanked him again, he took his leave.

"Oh, Charlotte, how embarrassing. What must he have thought?" her mother exclaimed, shaking her head, as Charlotte was helped into a chair by two of the footmen.

"I don't think he ‘thought' anything, mother. We had a delightful conversation. One we wouldn't have had otherwise," Charlotte said.

Her mother looked at her and smiled.

"Do you mean to say you're warming to the idea of marrying the earl as your father and I desire?" she asked, and Charlotte smiled back at her.

"I'm certainly giving it greater consideration, mother," she replied. That was the truth, and having realized life with the earl might not be so bad after all, Charlotte was at least willing to consider it, even as her mind was not yet entirely made up.